UN-Planned Parenthood
by kateflowrchild13
Summary: BACK FROM HIATUS! Parenthood is never easy. But what if it isn't even your kid? Ella and Iggy are home alone for two weeks, and when a mutant baby is delivered on their doorstep, they have to care for it themselves. Will they be decent parents? Lots and lots of Eggy fluff, with some implied Fax later on. Rated T for a reason, kiddies. R&R's would be greatly appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so it's after Max saves the world! Yay! Itex is destroyed, and everyone lives with Dr. M. Max, Fang, and Iggy are all seventeen now, Ella's sixteen. Nudge is fourteen, Gazzy is twelve, and Angel is eight. **

Mom had gone on business; the gang was gone at a CSM convention for two weeks.

Except for Iggy and me, that is.

I had caught the flu two days after Mom had left for an important medical conference in New York that concerned mutants and how to treat them (now that they had been freed from the Schools clutches and Itex destroyed). The flock was getting ready to leave that day for a convention in Chicago designed to help mutants adjust to society and hopefully find families willing to adopt them.

Iggy had volunteered to stay behind and help while I got better. Max reluctantly agreed, and the flock took off.

That was three days ago. After three days of puking my guts out (I even puked if I drank water. _Water._), I was four pounds lighter and sick of choking down Gatorade to regain electrolytes, only to puke it all up again.

Iggy had been wonderful, making soup and making sure I had what I needed. And the company was great too.

We were lying on the couch together, watching TV. My fever had finally broken, and I was able to actually consume the chicken noodle soup Iggy had made for me.

I sighed and nestled into his side. It was late afternoon and raining. Yes, it rained in Arizona (contrary to popular belief that it's all desert). We were watching (or in Iggy's case, listening to) Lady and the Tramp upon my insistence, my reasoning being that he didn't have much of a childhood and he might as well experience the magic of Disney better late than never.

He blindly (but of course, his aim was perfect) dropped a kiss onto the top of my head and wrapped the blanket around us tighter. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," I answered, sleepily. "Comfortable."

"Good," he said, pulling me tighter into his torso. I laid my head on his chest and watched the TV screen through half open eyelids.

"This is my favorite part," I mumbled to him as I watched Tramp introduce Lady to the humans Tony and Joe.

"Wait, so he's going to feed them spaghetti?" Iggy asked.

I nodded. "Yup. And he and Joe sing to them."

"They sound like lunatics. Are you _sure_ this movie is designed for children?" he asked. Before I could answer, Tony started singing 'Bella Notte'.

"Oh this is the night, it's a beautiful night," Tony started to sing onscreen to Lady and Tramp.

I grinned and sang along. "And they call it Bella Notte..."

Iggy smiled down at me, pale, unseeing blue eyes capturing my own. "I love it when you sing," he bent down and pressed his forehead to mine.

I closed my eyes and snuggled closer, and sighed contentedly. Maybe this whole sick business wasn't so bad after all.

I think I fell asleep on the couch and Iggy had carried me to bed. Even though he was blind, he knew his way around my house even better than I did.

When I woke, it was about two in the morning and my fever had gone completely. I actually felt almost fully recovered, and I had to pee, too.

I had awoken wrapped in the warm, comforting circle of Iggy's arms. That was the nice thing about everyone being gone; we could do stuff like this, things as innocent as falling asleep together safe in each others arms, and no one could freak out on us. By that, I mean mom wouldn't freak and Max wouldn't kick the crap out of Iggy. Nudge wouldn't be 'shipping us' (whatever that meant. And what the hell did OTP stand for anyways? She kept referring to Max and Fang or me and Iggy as her 'OTPs') and Gazzy wouldn't be cracking jokes. Fang would probably just look at us with his usual stone face (or throw and condom at Iggy. I think it depended on his mood, but it didn't really matter, because Iggy and I had hit that stage in our relationship weeks ago). Angel probably knew. I wasn't going to lie to myself. That little demon was probably thinking up ways to use this against us.

I shifted and started to edge out of Iggy's embrace, but he just mumbled in his sleep and rolled over, squashing me into the mattress with his chest.

"Iggy," I whispered, freeing an arm so I could poke his cheek. "Iggy, move."

Nothing.

"Come on, Iggy, I gotta pee!"

He grunted and I shoved him, but he was a mountain of muscle and wings and I was just plain, 100% human Ella.

I started making retching noises. "Ig!" I groaned. "I'm going to _puke_!"

His eyes flew open and he rolled off, and I scrambled out from the covers, glad my puking threat had awoke him enough so that I could actually escape and pee.

When I came back, he was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes, wings slightly extended. "Ella? Are you okay?" He asked, his voice gravelly from sleep.

"I'm fine. I just needed to get you off of me so I could actually go pee."

I hopped back in bed. "My stomachs fine."

"Good," he yawned and flopped backwards, tugging me into his side and pulling the covers up around us. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I mumbled.

Unfortunately, as soon as my eyes had closed, the doorbell rang.

"Who the hell rings the bell at two am?" I complained, sitting up.

"Maybe it's a group of those religious people who go from door to door?" Iggy suggested, his arm thrown over his face. "They came around once, but when Total started yelling at them they ran away, screaming something about the works of the devil."

I sighed. "I'll go see who it is."

"Uh, uh, you stay here. _I'll_ go. It could be some psycho." Iggy sat up and threw the covers off.

"Shouldn't I come with, in case it _is_ some psycho?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I've been getting into fights for years and I'm still in one piece. Mostly. I've even beat Fang. I'll be okay. Go back to sleep."

I lay back down and listened to Iggy's footsteps disappear down the hallway. The front door eased open, then slammed shut. Footsteps made their way back towards room.

It was probably Iggy, but to be safe, I got out of bed and hid on the opposite side. Living with the flock, you acquired habits like that.

But sure enough, it _was_ Iggy who appeared in the doorway, and he was holding a baby. _A baby? What the hell?_

"Ella?" He called. "Someone left this... Baby... And a note, but I can't read it..." He trailed off, handing me the note and gingerly setting the sleeping infant on the bed.

I scanned the note, reading it aloud to Iggy.

_Dear Dr. Martinez,_

_I understand your child, Max, is a mutant and you work closely with an organization for mutants growing up in the world. This baby was rescued from a School in Montana before it was destroyed along with Itex. Please care for it. As a lab technician for that School, I feel grossly under qualified and undeserving of such a responsibility. I'm turning myself into the police after I deliver the baby to your doorstep. It was conceived as an experiment between a mutant and human, to see if the two could indeed breed. The mother, a mutant, died in childbirth and the father was a scientist of the school who took his life when Itex was taken down. This baby has no one in the world, now. I hope you can find it in your heart to take care of this poor child._

_Thank you._

There was no name. I told Iggy as much. He ran his fingers through his strawberry blonde hair. "What do we do with it?"

I shrugged. "Well… we can't exactly give it to an orphanage. It's mutant. We keep it."

"Shouldn't we call your mom and the flock?"

I nodded. "Tomorrow. It's too early now."

I gently picked up the bundle. The baby was asleep, tiny eye shut tight. "We need a bed for it."

"Um…" Iggy made his way to my dresser. "Does this have drawers?"

"Yeah."

"Can I take all the stuff out?"

"Okay…" I said, not sure of where he was going with this.

Iggy took out all my comfortable t-shirts and started lining it with my spare blankets. "Here. A bed."

"Ig, you're a genius." I said, kissing him on the cheek and gently setting the baby inside the drawer.

"Tell me something I don't know," he grinned. "Now let's go back to bed."

And of course, the minute I turned out the lights and we settled in, the baby woke up screaming.


	2. Chapter 2

I threw back the covers and rushed to the drawer. The baby was squalling, kicking its legs free of its blankets. I picked it up, but it kept crying.

"Shhh," I made soothing sounds, bouncing it my arms, but it still cried. "Shhh, don't cry. Oh God, um, Iggy, a little help?"

He slid out of bed and walked to me, bringing his hand up to cup it's head. "What do you want me to do?"

"I have no idea! You said you grew up with Angel when she was a baby. What did you do when she cried?"

He shrugged. "Max mostly took care of her, along with Jeb. I was just a kid myself. Maybe it pooped?"

I raised the baby's backside to my nose and sniffed, but nothing smelled bad and the blankets seemed dry. "No, it doesn't need to be changed."

"It could be hungry."

"We don't have any baby formula, unless you want to go to the store for me…" I trailed off. Even though he could feel colors, I wasn't sure how well he could accomplish the task of grocery shopping. I wouldn't want to have him come home with a box of baking soda instead of baby formula.

Iggy seemed to share my thoughts. "I can stay with it while you go to the store."

"Would any stores be open at two am?"

"Try Walgreens?"

I nodded, and handed him the screaming child. He sat down on the bed and started gently rocking it.

"I'll be right back," I promised, grabbing my car keys.

As it turns out, Walgreens _was_ open, but deserted except for the sleepy cashier. When I walked up with the box of baby formula, diapers, and some bottles, he scrutinized me. "Woke up crying, huh? How olds your kid?"

I shook my head. "Not mine. Um. Yeah. My mom just sent me out for some stuff for my baby brother."

He had the grace to look embarrassed and rang me up with no problem. I raced back home.

Iggy was still in my room (well, I guess you could call it _our_ room. We acted like we shared an apartment all by ourselves, anyway) and the baby was still crying.

"It won't stop!" He said frantically, handing it to me. I gave him the bag with the bottles and formula. I figured since he was able to use the oven on a daily basis and hadn't burned down the house yet, he could mix a bottle of baby formula.

"Could you make some of this stuff for it?" I bounced the baby in my arms.

Iggy disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me with a red faced, screeching infant. "Does that thing have an off button?" He called from the kitchen.

"Don't know!" I called back. Unsure of what else to do, I started to sing to it. A lullaby, of course. Brahms lullaby. "Lullaby, and goodnight…"

It quieted some, but kept fussing. I stroked its head and it opened its eyes long enough for me to see the sky blue eyes that most infants were born with.

I kept singing. It stared at me, mesmerized, and its eyelids began to droop. I sighed in relief and placed it back in the drawer and stopped singing, but as soon as I had, it started crying again.

_Oh, kill me now._

I picked it back up and rocked it. "Lullaby, and goodnight…" I sang again.

It quieted down, and Iggy walked back in with the bottle.

I took it and pressed it gently against the baby's lips, and it began to suck. It ceased making sounds.

Relieved, I sat down on the bed again and let it drink, humming softly.

When half the bottle had been consumed, it yawned a wide, toothless yawn and finally, _finally_ went to sleep.

My mom had told me about swaddling children once, when I had a babysitting job watching a baby. She told me to wrap it tightly, so with this baby, I tightly wrapped it in the blankets and set it into the drawer. It slept on, silently.

"Oh, thank God," Iggy said, flopping backwards onto the bed. "I thought it would never stop."

I crawled onto the bed and curled into his side. "Me too. I feel bad calling it and 'it', though."

"Does it have a name?"

I shook my head. "The note didn't say anything about a name."

Iggy yawned and pulled me against him sleepily. "I guess we'll have to come up with one, then."

I smiled up at him. "I guess so."

"I called your mom, while you were at the store," Iggy mumbled, almost asleep himself. "It kept crying, and I panicked. She wasn't too happy about being woken up."

"What did she say?"

"Apparently it's snowing really badly in New York, and all flights are cancelled until further notice. A storm's brewing off the east coast. She's fine, though, so don't start worrying about that."

I smiled. He knew me so well. "And Max? Did you call her?"

Iggy nodded. "They're wrapped up with stuff in Chicago, and it's apparently snowing there too. Chicago winters are supposed to be even worse than New York."

I groaned. "So we're stuck here with the baby until they can come home?"

"Yup."

"Great. This is an interesting way to start Christmas break."

Iggy didn't reply; he just snored. I snuggled into his side and was soon asleep myself.

Unfortunately, the baby woke up around five thirty, and you guessed it, it was screaming again.

Iggy jerked awake at the sound, searching for the threat. I just pulled a pillow over my head. "Maybe if we ignore it, it will go away?" I wondered, but sighed and got up.

It had wet itself this time. I grabbed a diaper and with lack of a better idea, lowered it to the floor and changed it there.

Upon changing it, I discovered it was a girl. _Oops. I guess I should've told the cashier 'sister' instead of 'brother'._

"Hey, Iggy," I said. "It's a girl."

He walked over and knelt next to me. "Does this mean we should stop calling it an 'it'?"

"I guess so."

I fastened the diaper on and grabbed the half full bottle of formula. "I gotta go nuke this," I said, leaving the grumpy baby with my boyfriend. "I don't think she likes cold formula."

I ran the bottle through the microwave and hurried back. Iggy was still sitting with it, but he had pulled it into his lap, careful to support the head.

"Ella, look at this," he said. "I felt something on her back."

"Really? What?"

"Wings."

I peeled back the blanket she had been wrapped in and I saw tiny, gray wings poking out from her back. "You're right. The experiment worked, I guess. She's got wings."

Iggy blindly stroked her head. "She feels so… squishy."

I giggled. "All the adjectives in the world and you go with 'squishy'?"

"Well, you're limited, only having four senses." He joked.

"You got me there. Do you want to feed her?" I handed him the bottle and helped him guide the top towards the baby's mouth, so he didn't accidentally stab her in the eye with it.

_One_ blind bird-kid was enough.

She drank quickly and blinked her eyes, looking around, up at me and at Iggy.

"Hey, missy," I whispered, smiling. She just stared. "What's your name?"

Iggy bounced her in his lap, in an awkward attempt to make her burp. "I thought you said she didn't have one."

I shrugged. "Yeah, but we _should_ name her."

"Shouldn't we leave that to your mom?"

"Why? We're the ones who found her."

"Well, if we named her… it would be like _we_ were her parents."

At that moment, she made a retching sound and spit up all over Iggy.

"What the hell is that?" He cried, recoiling. "Did she just puke?"

I gingerly took the now crying baby. "Yup. Welcome to parenthood, _daddy_."

"Gross, man," he mumbled, and went to change.

I assessed the damage. Most of the bile had hit Iggy, and I wiped her face and started rocking her again. Fortunately, she decided she'd had enough for the day and stopped crying long enough for me to put her in her drawer.

"Go to sleep!" I mumbled frantically.

She did.

Iggy came back and found me in bed, and climbed in. "this is going to be a _long_ two weeks," he mumbled.

Then, we were both asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N: Yes, I know I'm annoying all of you by calling the baby an 'it' but SHE'S GETTING A NAME IN THIS CHAPTER. Are we cool, guys? Thanks!)**

When I woke again, sun was streaming through my windows. I rolled over to check the clock, and saw it was eight thirty.

No crying sounds. Yet.

"Iggy," I mumbled, and when I didn't feel him lying next to me, I stretched an arm out and my hand felt only empty bed sheets.

"Ig?" I propped myself up on an elbow. The room was empty. Even the baby's drawer was empty.

Wait.

"Iggy?" I hopped out of bed and wandered into the kitchen. "Is the kid with you?"

Iggy was making waffles. It never ceased to amaze me how talented that boy could be (in the kitchen or elsewhere). He never burned himself. I, on the other hand, was very clumsy and even though I was a good cook, I usually wound up burning _myself_ rather than the food.

"No," he said, adding chocolate chips to the batter, just how I liked it. "I got up and she was still in the drawer."

"She's not there anymore."

He paused. "What?"

"She's gone."

"She's not in the drawer?"

"That's why I thought she was out here with you!"

Iggy set down the mixing bowl on the counter. "She has to be in the drawer. She's a baby that can't even crawl yet."

We raced back to 'our' room and I stared at the empty drawer. "Yeah, it's empty."

Iggy walked over and stuck his hand inside, withdrawing it with a yelp. "_Something's _in here."

"It looks empty."

"Well, it doesn't _feel_ empty!"

"That's impossible," I began as I stuck my hand in the drawer. "How can you _feel_ something when nothing's- oh!"

My hand brushed against something soft and warm, and I quickly withdrew it. "What the hell was that?"

"I think… it could be the baby?"

I stared at Iggy, then slowly reached into the drawer and took hold of whatever it was that was inside. I felt something squirm, and then sure enough, the baby appeared.

"Yup, she's here." I muttered as she started to cry.

"She was invisible?" Iggy asked.

I nodded. "Not like Fang's camouflage invisible deal though. She was legitimately _invisible_."

"Whoa. We didn't start getting cool powers until we were older." Iggy reached out a hand and the baby grasped his forefinger tightly, face twitching into a smile. "She's got a strong grip," he observed.

"Yeah, most babies do. It's surprising," I said. "Aww, she's smiling."

"No," Iggy said, trying to take his hand back. "I mean strong as in I can't remove my finger from her hand."

"Hey, you!" I said to the baby in my arms. "Let go of his hand!"

She worked her mouth and kicked her legs, looking me in the face.

"Come on, kid," Iggy strained to pull his hand away. "I need this. I'm already handicapped as is."

I shifted her to one arm and started tickling her with the other. She squealed and squeezed Iggy's hand.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, _ow, Ella what did you do?_" Iggy groaned.

"Sorry! I thought she would let go!"

"Well, she's crushing my finger!"

"Come on, baby," I bounced her in my arms. "Let go of Iggy!"

I had an idea. "Here, take her," I said to Iggy, gently placing her in his free arm.

"What? Where are you going?"

"Trust me!" I went to my dresser and dug through my jewelry box, finally pulling out a strand of sparkly plastic beads I had played with when I was like, eight. I went back and dangled the necklace over the baby's head and she _finally_ let go of Iggy's hand to reach for it.

"Phew," Iggy said, placing her on the bed. "My finger was going numb."

I looked at it and bit my lip. It was turning a fierce shade of purple. You could see a tiny bruise in the shape of a baby hand. "You should probably put some ice on that," I said. "She bruised it."

"She _what_?" He felt his injury with feather-light fingers. "Oh man, you're right."

"A mutant baby who's super strong and can turn invisible," I mused. "Of course. What else would we expect?"

I picked up the baby and followed Iggy into the kitchen, where he got an ice pack. I laid her on the floor, surrounded by pillows. We were seriously lacking in the baby supplies department.

"I'm on the couch, Ig," I called him over. "Don't step at ten o'clock though. That's where the baby is."

I was getting seriously sick of calling her 'the baby' or 'it'.

Iggy flopped down next to me, icing his hand. I think he felt my gaze, because he raised his eyes to meet mine and held out his finger, pouting. "Kiss it?"

I laughed and pressed my lips to the cold, bruised skin. "There. Better?"

"A little."

"Hmm. Then how about this?" I leaned over and kissed his lips. "Better now?"

"No, I think I need a little more," he said as he kissed me again.

I laid my head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around my waist. "For once, I wish everyone was here," I said. "No way can we take care of this thing ourselves."

"I'm just worried she's hiding more abilities."

"Well, she has wings, super strength, and can turn invisible. Angel has more powers than her. Angel can read minds, fly, breathe underwater, change her appearance… Am I missing any?"

"Nope. I think that about covers it."

"So two extra powers for each of you?"

"Well, no. I just have the whole 'feeling colors' deal. I guess you could two if you include my devilish good looks."

"Of course. Who could forget that?"

I glanced down at the baby. She had rolled onto her stomach and was fluttering her wings. In the next of pillows, she looked like a small bird.

"We really should name her," I said. "I feel bad calling her 'the baby'. It's kind of like 'the dog' or 'the cat'. She sounds kind of like a pet."

"A pet baby?" Iggy asked incredulously. "That sounds just plain weird."

"Says the blind mutant boy who can _feel colors._"

"True. But… what do we name her? That makes me feel so… parent-y."

I leaned my head on his shoulder. "I know what you mean. But everyone deserves a name, right? And her birth parents obviously didn't bother."

"Okay. Fine." Iggy conceded. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, all of you guys have really unusual names. I think she should have one too." A thought came to me. "What about Aveline?"

"Aveline?"

"It means 'little bird' in French. My friend is in French class and they all have French names. She picked Aveline, and I remember her telling me something about how it means 'little bird'. It's perfect."

Iggy nodded, smiling at me. "I like it." He bent down towards where Aveline was laying. "You hear that, kid? You're name's Aveline."

She smiled and stretched out a hand, reaching for his nose.

I yanked him back by the shoulder. "Careful, she's reaching for your nose!"

Iggy shuddered. "Oh, thanks. I don't think I would've had a nose anymore."

The rest of the day was difficult; I already had to care for Iggy on a minor level, things like telling him where he last placed his pencil or spoon or whatever, and telling him where to step so he wouldn't walk on Aveline, who I had left on the living room floor. I googled baby care, unsure of how to proceed, and _finally_ called my mom.

"Hello?" she answered when I called.

"Mom!" I exclaimed. "Okay, thanks for picking up."

"Ella! How are things with the baby?"

"She's mutant," I said. "She has wings, and apparently turns invisible. She scared Iggy and me pretty badly earlier this morning. We thought she was gone. And she has super strength."

"She has all these? How old does she appear?"

I shrugged, glancing at tiny Aveline lying on the floor. "Um, a few weeks? I don't know. I've never seen a baby's development firsthand."

"Are you feeding her?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, mom we're letting her cook her own meals with the stove. _Yes_, we're feeding her baby formula."

"Good. When I get home, I'll give her a check up to see if she's healthy."

"She seems okay to me," I said, sitting down next to Aveline and giving her one of Angel's old stuffed animals. "She's just got mutant powers."

"Well, let's hope she doesn't develop any more."

"Can she do that?"

"The other kids developed new powers at odd stages in their lives, didn't they?" my mom retorted. "Just… hang in there, okay? I'll try and get home soon. Are the others home yet?"

I sighed. "No, the weather in Chicago is too dangerous, and they're not due back until next Monday. How long will it be until you get home?"

"Sweetie, the storm's raging pretty hard… I'd say two days?"

I sighed in relief. "What about the convention? Don't you have to go to that too?"

It was her turn to sigh. "That's right. I was planning on going straight from New York to Chicago. I can make a stop in Arizona and check on you two, though. I hate to do this to you Ella, but you and Iggy just might have to take care of the baby by yourselves."

I made a frustrated noise.

"I know, that's a lot to ask," she said. "But you're both there already. Just… take care of her, and don't fool around with Iggy. One baby is enough."

"Mom!" I exclaimed.

"I'm obligated to say that as a parent. And you do understand the necessity of protection, don't you?"

"_Mom!_" I shrieked. "Stop it!" For once, I was glad that Iggy was blind. That way, he couldn't see my face turning beet red.

"Just saying, hon. You never know. I learned that with Fang and Max. I'll see you both soon."

"Fine. See you soon. Love you."

"Love you too, honey. Bye."

I hung up and groaned, dragging my hands down my face.

Iggy walked by, and paused. "Something up?"

"We're on babysitting duty for the next two weeks," I said. I neglected to mention that my mom was on to us _and_ Max and Fang. I didn't want to get into that conversation.

"Your mom trusts us enough to take care of a mini-mutant?"

"Apparently so." I shrugged. "But Max was younger than us and took care of _five_ mini-mutants for a long time."

Iggy shuddered. "I'm flashing back to bruises and broken bones."

I picked up Aveline. "Well, we'll try our best and not break any of hers. Will we?" I asked her, setting her on my lap and playing with her toes.

She squealed and kicked, blinking her round baby-blue eyes. "She's cute, though," I remarked to Iggy. "Want to hold her?"

I deposited Aveline into his lap, helping him support her head. She smiled up at him.

"Aw, she likes you," I said. "She's smiling."

Iggy smiled down at her and reached for me, and I sank into his side.

"How long do you think it will be until she starts crying again?" Iggy asked.

I leaned my head on his shoulder. "Ten minutes?"

Iggy kissed the top of my head. "Well, that's ten minutes of peace and quiet."

**Thanks to Tobymydog for the name suggestion! I loved it! And other thank you's to The Irish Lass and feather flyer! I always appreciate you guys reviewing! Tell me, is the dialogue to blah or out of character for Ella or Iggy? Is it too cheesy? Is the writing style too… cold or distant? I'm trying out a different way of writing here. Anyway, thank you for the feedback! You guys are great!**


	4. Chapter 4

Later that day, I got a call from Max.

"I heard you found a baby," she said when I answered.

"Yup," I said. "We named her Aveline."

"You and Iggy named her? How does mom feel about you guys playing house?"

"She told us to not fool around."

I heard laughing on the other end of the line. "I'm sure you're following that rule like obedient teenagers."

"Yeah, we're obeying it just like you and Fang are," I retorted.

"Who said Fang and I were fooling around?"

"It wasn't really what anyone said, it was more like the moans coming from your room at two am."

Silence. Then, "you will not mention this to anybody."

"Like they don't already know," I said. "Max, you and Fang may be low key about PDA but you're _not_ subtle _at all_ when you think you're alone."

"Oh, like the time when I caught Iggy walking out of _your_ room early in the morning?"

I had the decency to blush. "That wasn't _my_ fault. I told him to be careful."

"Apparently not enough."

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes. "How's the convention?"

"Boring. Just a bunch of crazy fan girls who obsess over Fang. I'm beginning to think I need to start beating up a few of them to make them go away."

"Violence is never the answer," I said, sitting down over the couch to give small Adeline another bottle.

"No, I think it is. Then there are the crusty, old, fake politicians. If I have to shake _one more hand_, I think I'm going to stab someone."

"Aww. Hang in there. How's Chicago? I've always wanted to visit."

"Big. City-like. Fucking cold. I now know why they call it the 'windy' city. There's a lot of snow, and _way_ too many cheery Christmas carolers."

A thought struck me. "Are you guys going to be back for Christmas?"

"Hopefully. That would suck, being stuck here for that. Mom's still coming up after she checks in on you guys, right?" Max asked.

"Yeah, she said she couldn't miss."

Max sighed. "Good. I don't think I can take much more of this."

"How is everyone else?"

"Having the freaking times of their lives."

I laughed. "I'm sure Nudge is having a field day."

"You don't know the half of it." She paused. "Gotta go. Duty calls."

"Have fun, sis," I said.

"You too. Have fun changing dirty diapers."

I grimaced. "Oh yeah, it's a blast."

I hung up and cradled Aveline. She really was a happy baby. I guess she was just cranky at night and in the mornings, but weren't the best of us?

Speaking of dirty diapers… I wrinkled my nose as a scent wafted up towards my nose.

She started crying.

I carried her to our room and set her on the floor. Iggy had mentioned something earlier about flying, so I opened my window and stuck my head out. "Iggy!"

Sure enough, Iggy's form flew through the sky and to my window, carried by his powerful wings. "What's up, Ella?"

"Come here. I have a surprise for you."

His face lit up. "What kind?"

"You'll see," I backed away from the window so he could swoop in, tucking his wings in tightly at the last second. He landed on the floor and rolled onto his feet expertly.

His arm snaked out and snagged me around the waist, pulling me in for a kiss. "What's this surprise?"

I led him to a fussy Aveline. "You get to change her diaper. Surprise!"

He backed away. "Uh, uh. She smells even worse than the Gasman."

"Oh, come on! It's not that bad!"

"Have you _smelled_ her?"

"You've lived with Gazzy all your life! There is absolutely _no_ way she can smell worse than him." I froze. "You don't think she got another power… do you?"

"I hope not," Iggy muttered. "But I am _not_ changing that diaper."

"Oh, come on. It's just a diaper."

"Ella, in case you've forgotten, I'm _blind_. I don't think it will work out-"

"It's good practice," I cut him off.

"Practice? For what?"

"You never know. Maybe we'll have kids someday, and I'm not freaking changing all the diapers by myself."

Iggy smiled. "You sure you want to have kids someday with a blind, winged mutant freak? How will that even work?"

"Absolutely. Aveline's dad was human, so it _must've_ worked," I said.

I knelt on the floor next to Aveline and dragged Iggy down beside me. "Help me," I said, peeling back her diaper. "It's not that hard-"

I closed my eyes as a wave of fumes hit my face. I almost gagged.

Luckily, I'd changed diapers in the past, so I knew what to expect. Unfortunately for Iggy, he was leaning a little too close and got a face full of the smell.

"Oh God!" he spluttered, backing away. "Yup, she definitely smells worse than Gazzy."

"It's not that bad," I said, quickly changing the used diaper for a clean one. The smell dissipated, and I sighed in relief. I waved the used diaper in front of Iggy's face and he retched.

"Get that thing away from me!"

I looked at Aveline, who was kicking her legs and grinning. "Isn't he a wimp, Aveline?"

She gurgled in response.

"I'm going for another fly. I have to clear my nasal passages," Iggy remarked, unfurling his wings.

When Aveline saw them, she started making more noises.

"Iggy," I said. "I think she likes your wings."

I picked up the baby and brought her over to him. She reached out a hand and brushed the feathers with her palm. Her face was calm and curious. I could feel her tiny wings flutter on her back.

"They _are_ really impressive," I said, reaching out to stroke them.

He turned his face towards us. "I still can't believe you like my wings."

"Hm. You're right. You should've gotten a unicorn horn."

Iggy barked a laugh and pulled me, still holding Aveline, in for an embrace. My free arm went around his back and sank into his soft feathers.

"But seriously," he whispered in my ear. "You like my wings?"

"Iggy, of course I do. You wouldn't be _you_ without them."

In fact, I was quite envious of them. The ability to take off and leave, whenever you wanted, go wherever you wanted…

He sighed and pulled away, kissing the top of my head. "El, you're the best."

Max had mentioned to me that Nudge was insecure about er wings, calling herself a 'freak', and the rest of the flock seemed to share the same sentiments.

I, however, thought their wings were beautiful. But the power I was most jealous of was the gills. The ability to breath underwater seemed too good to be true.

Aveline was still staring at Iggy's wings with a look of wonder. She reached for him.

"Uh, Ig, I think she wants you…" I said, gently handing him the little girl. She stared into his pale, cloudy blue eyes with eyes a darker shade of blue. She smiled.

"She's smiling at you," I said softly.

Iggy cradled her gently.

And the best part? She actually yawned and _went to sleep_.

Iggy set her down in her drawer and beckoned to me. "Want to go for a fly?"

I hesitated, unsure about leaving sleeping Aveline alone.

"We won't go far," he promised.

I took his hand and together we walked to the windowsill. Iggy jumped out first and hovered, helping me stand on the sill. He scooped me up and then we were flying, into the late afternoon sky above.

**Thanks to Tobymydog, Sketch and Guest for reading and reviewing! The positive feedback is really helping me out. Question: I'm thinking about changing Aveline's age. Iggy and Ella playing house won't be fun if the baby just… ****_sits_**** there (but don't worry, I have a plan). I actually have like no idea about how a baby's development should advance/how they behave at specific months. And were there too many suggestive bits/were they irrelevant? I know, I know. This was a short chapter. I'm struggling.**

**Guys, I need some suggestions for this story. I thought about it and two weeks of Eggy fluff with no plot? Even ****_I_**** would get sick of that. So, if anyone has any suggestions for me, I am welcome to them! Credit will be given where credit is due, of course! If I could add anything that would interest you guys further in this story, what would it be? Kidnapping? Death? Space aliens? Fang being awkward (mostly because he's hilariously adorkable when awkward). Let me know! Thanks everyone!**


	5. Chapter 5

**THAT'S RIGHT! I'M BACK, GUYS! WITH A NEW AND IMPROVED PLOT! READ ON AND ENJOY! (Read my AN's at the end too, please. They explain some stuff)**

It was amazing, flying.

I had always envied the flock and their ability to just take to the skies and go wherever they wanted. When Iggy took me flying, I was able to get a taste of his world. And it was great, because only like 25% of flying is seeing. The rest of it is the feeling of weightlessness, the wind in your hair, the peaceful quiet, the warmth of the sunshine, and the butterflies in your stomach.

I think the butterflies were more Iggy-induced, though. But still.

You know that feeling when you're driving and you go up a hill, the down it and your stomach feels all fluttery and funny? That's what flying feels like, all the time.

It's amazing.

I looked over Iggy's shoulder and watched his wings beat in perfect time. They were soundless and majestic, feathers glinting in the sunlight, taking us higher and higher into the endless blue sky.

I snuggled into him, resting my head against the crook of his neck. He had scooped me up, one arm under my legs and one around my back, holding me tightly against him.

I was usually afraid of heights, (like when I took rock climbing as a gym class. That was a _bad_ idea, especially when my teacher decided to be an ass and made me climb to the ceiling). But when I was flying with Iggy, I always felt safe and secure in his arms. I knew he would never let me go, never drop me by accident. Sure, if I looked down I got a little lightheaded and hyperventilated a bit, and the first time I decided to look down, I had a panic attack. Iggy had tilted my face back up to his, saying "don't look down. Just look at me. I won't drop you, I promise."

And he was true to his word. Every single time.

I think though, if I had wings, I wouldn't get so scared of heights. The knowledge of that foolproof backup plan would be enough to put even _my_ anxious mind to ease.

We landed then, amid a bunch of rock formations, way out in the desert. The stone was the same reddish tan as the rest of the desert surrounding us.

Iggy set me down, gently, and shook out his wings.

I smiled. They looked so amazing on him. I didn't care if he was embarrassed by them or felt different because of them. They were part of him, parts that I wouldn't trade for anything. He looked kind of like an angel, but he was far from saintly.

But that's what I liked best about him.

He pressed me up against a boulder and started kissing me, hard. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he hooked his fingers into the belt loops on my jeans, tugging my hips closer and closer.

After awhile, just laid there on the ground, looking at the sky. My head was on his chest and our legs were tangled together.

Iggy caught my small hand in his large one and kissed my fingertips. "I like being out here. It's closer to the sky."

He stared blindly at the blue expanse above, a peaceful smile playing over his lips. Even if he couldn't _see_ the sky, I think he felt better knowing it was there.

I always wondered exactly how much birdness came through when he was born. It seemed he needed the sky, the same way the birds did, and just being out underneath it was more than enough.

I sighed and closed my eyes, content to just lay there with his arms and wings wrapped around me, warmed by his body and by the afternoon sun.

Iggy's hand was stroking my hair, twisting strands through his fingers, sensing the colors.

"Your hair is really beautiful," he said. "The color's got… browns and reds, but some gold too… kind of a coppery bronze…"

I laughed. "Thank you."

I cracked open and eye and stared up at him, then at the sky. The sun had begun to set, turning the sky around it from blue to a fiery orange.

"Okay," I sighed and shifted, starting to stand up. "It's getting late. We've been here _way_ longer than we should've."

"Nah, we got a little time," Iggy said, grasping me firmly by the waist and pulling me back down to his side.

"No, we _don't_," I protested, squirming away. "Aveline's probably screaming her head off right now, because she woke up because her diaper's dirty or she's hungry or just plain _lonely_."

Iggy sighed and sat up. "Fine, fine."

He picked me up again, and we made our journey back home in a content sort of silence.

When we arrived back at the house, he helped me through the window and flew in himself.

Aveline was lying there in her drawer, and she was _just_ waking up.

"Impeccable timing," I said to Iggy as I gathered her into my arms. "We managed to get here before she started screaming bloody murder."

I bounced the sleepy baby in my arms and she yawned and blinked groggily. "Hi, kiddo," I whispered. "Are you hungry? Dirty?" I paused to sniff, but no, she was fine.

She just yawned and went back to sleep.

That was strange. I thought it took newborns a few months to become adjusted to sleeping through the night _with_ naps.

And then, I noticed something.

"Iggy," I said, urgently. "I think she's grown."

"How can you tell?" he asked.

"Her feet are sticking out the blanket. They didn't do that before. And I could've _sworn_ her head and body were smaller…" I trailed off. "She looks like she was born a few _months_ ago, not a few _weeks!_"

"That's impossible. No way she could grow that fast unless-" Iggy stopped. "Oh, holy hell, she's got another power. She's growing fast."

I groaned. "_Another_ power?"

"Hey, anything can happen."

"I'd better call my mom," I said, placing her in his arms. "Could you wrap her so that the blanket covers her toes and stuff? It should still be long enough. I hope."

I grabbed my cell phone and dialed my mom's number.

"Ella? What's up, sweetie?" her familiar voice crackled through the phone.

"Hi mom. Um, it's about Aveline."

"Who?"

I sighed. I had forgotten to tell her the name we picked. "Aveline. The baby Iggy and I found."

"You two named it?"

"Well, yeah. We didn't want to keep calling her an 'it' the whole time."

"Okay. What about her?"

"She grew."

"Grew?"

"Like, she looks like a five month old baby, not a few weeks old."

Mom was silent for a moment. Then, "do you think it could be her powers?"

"Probably. I mean, what else could it be?"

"I don't know. You're right; it's probably her powers. Well, have you started feeding her baby food yet? Because around five months is usually when people start introducing solid foods to their babies."

"No," I said. "Do you think we should?"

"It's worth a shot. I have some emergency cash in the cookie jar. Use that to buy food and other supplies you need until I get home."

I nodded. "Okay. I'll call you if we have any problems."

"Sounds good, sweetie. Good luck!"

She hung up, and I did too.

"Guess what," I said, turning to Iggy. "Aveline looks to be about five months old and we get to move into the baby food stage."

"And that means?"

"That means high chairs and spoon feeding."

Iggy sighed and sat on the bed, cradling our slightly bigger Aveline. "Can't wait."

**Thank you to the irish lass for your support and MalecClane11 for the BRILLIANT IDEA! Feather flyer, was my previous idea too obvious? Oops. Well, don't worry. I've fixed it now! **

**Sorry for the worries and the short hiatus! I just needed some time to redevelop the plot and I found excitement again in this story! I have some little scenes prewritten that come later, and I think you will all like where I take this! Thanks for being patient! You guys rock!**

**Anyway. READ AND REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 6

Feeding a baby is not easy, and anyone who says anything otherwise is lying.

First, since we didn't have any high chairs, I just sat at the table with Aveline in my lap. It was strange, she had grown so much in the short span of time Iggy and I had been gone. She looks truly about five months now, with curious eyes and grabby hands. I made it a point to pull my hair into a high bun before sitting down with her.

I had run out earlier and grabbed some baby food when she awoke, crying. Baby food is gross, ok? Who wants to eat pureed carrots and plums? Not me, and Aveline wasn't having any of it either.

I grabbed a few jars of the sweet potatoes one (even though sweet potatoes are absolutely disgusting, you can't go wrong with a potato product) and a few jars of the turkey and gravy one (because if it has _gravy_, then it's an acceptable food item).

And Aveline didn't want either one.

"Come on!" I picked up the spoon for the umpteenth time and aimed it at her mouth. She shook her head and turned away, pressing her face into my arm.

"Oh, come on, Aveline! I know it's gross, but I'm pretty sure your system can't handle cheeseburgers!" I complained.

Iggy was sitting beside me, handing me the towel to repeatedly wipe up the goo she spat out.

"Want me to try?" he asked.

I sighed and plopped her into his lap. "Go for it."

He fumbled in his pocket first, and pulled out a packet of kit kats. He broke off a tiny piece and held it before Aveline's mouth. She sniffed it and reached for it, but he snatched it out of the way when he felt her fingers brush his.

"What are you doing? Teasing her?" I asked. "Because babies can't eat kit kats. At least I'm _pretty_ sure."

"They're not for _eating_," he said, scooping up a spoonful of turkey and gravy pureed muck. "Watch this."

With one hand, he dangled the kit kat piece in front of her mouth. She opened it, eager to taste the new, sweet smelling piece of candy, and right as she opened her mouth, he stuck the spoonful of food in.

Thankfully, she swallowed it, but a bit dribbled down her chin. I wiped that up with the towel.

"You are a genius, Iggy," I said. "But how many times can you do that before she catches on?"

He shrugs. "Maybe if I switch up the candy when she gets tired of the kit kats, she'll keep falling for it."

"Maybe," I said.

But we had no trouble feeding her after that. And when she was done, she burped herself.

We had, for the most part, managed to avoid the puking stage, and I was incredibly relieved. I wasn't sure if I could've repeatedly cleaned up baby spit-up.

Iggy and I put her back in her drawer, which started looking a bit small.

"We need to get a crib or something for her soon," I said. "I don't know how much longer this drawer can hold her."

"We can go tomorrow," Iggy assured me. "Besides, there should be lots of Christmas discounts."

I nodded, and we went downstairs to watch TV.

Iggy plopped down on the couch and caught me around the waist, dragging me backwards into his lap and rested his chin on my shoulder. "What do you want to watch?"

I shrugged. So we just flipped channels, until I _finally_ found ABC Family. And guess what? For the 25 Days of Christmas, they were showing first _Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown_ (which was an extremely good thing) and after that, _The Year Without Santa Claus _(which was an extremely bad thing)_._ I cringed.

"What?" Iggy asked. He felt my twitch.

"After _Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown_, they're showing _The Year Without Santa Claus._" I shuddered. "That movie made me cry when I was little. It still does."

"Why?"

"Because they're creepy Claymation dolls and the heat miser's song is _so_ freaky and ugh," I shuddered.

Iggy laughed and squeezed me tight. "I'll protect you. We don't have to watch it, if you don't want to."

"Oh, I _definitely_ don't want to." I said.

"It's weird, celebrating the Christmas holiday without snow," Iggy said. "In Colorado, at our old house, it was always snowy by the middle of November. IT's December 15th now and there's no snow to speak of."

"That's Arizona, for you." I said. "We decorate cactuses instead of Christmas trees."

Iggy laughed. "What else do you do here?"

"Well, my mom and I watched _Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown_ every year when I was a kid," I told Iggy. "Just her and me. She'd sometimes come home with eggnog or hot chocolate and we'd bake cookies and watch it. I've never had a 'white' Christmas, like in the song."

"Hmm… baking sounds like a good idea," Iggy said, nudging me off his lap and standing up, pulling me with him. "Homemade cookies are my specialty. They're just as good as your mom's, I don't care what Max says."

I laughed as we walked into the kitchen. From here, the living room was visible and so was the TV. I turned up the volume just as the kids ice-skating started singing 'Christmastime is Here'.

"Hey, I've heard this movie!" Iggy said as he started digging through the fridge for the butter and eggs. "We had kind of a crappy TV set back in Colorado, but one year Jeb got it to work long enough for us to catch the Christmas movies playing."

I got the flour and sugar out from the cupboard and grabbed a mixing bowl and measuring cup. "What I never got was why everyone hated Charlie Brown so much. He wasn't a bad kid."

"He was depressing," Iggy said as he cracked two eggs into the bowl and grabbed the flour. "I need a measuring cup, and not the liquid kind."  
I handed him the silver 1-cup measuring cup to him.

"He wasn't really depressing. Just kind of a realist. Lucy was a scheming bitch, but everyone liked her."

Iggy started laughing. "A scheming bitch?"

"Yeah! There's a part where she sets up a therapy booth, and charges people a nickel for advice. Charlie Brown comes to her, gives her a nickel, and tells her his problems and all she does is go on about how the nickel sounds nice and clanky in her money tin and then lists a bunch of phobias, and then she _finally_ declares he has pantophobia."

"What's that?"

"The fear of everything!" I mimicked Lucy's exasperated tone.

"Oh, right! I heard that part before too!"

I helped him add the chocolate chips and butter while he added the sugar and brown sugar.

"But, I _love_ the songs," I said. "The radio plays them a lot, and yeah it looks a bit weird with the desert, but it's still nice."

"I can't see a difference, what are you talking about?" Iggy joked.

"I've never seen snow before," I remarked. "Well, I have, like in movies and on TV and stuff. But still."

"Well, it looks fun at first, but when someone dumps it down the back of your coat without telling you, you start to hate it bitterly."

"That sounds awful."

"Oh, it is. And it's Max's _favorite_ thing to do with snow." He rolled his eyes, mixing all the ingredients together in the bowl.

I hopped up on the counter next to him. "Did you ever get her back?"

"If I wanted a broken body part, yeah." He chuckled.

"Fang must have been fun to prank," I guessed.

Iggy grinned, the maniacal grin he usually reserved for situations involving explosives. "So funny. If we could make have even the smallest emotional reaction, we considered it an accomplishment."

"I bet. I considered throwing my food at him at dinner one day because he just… sat there… and stared…"

"He does that a lot," Iggy nodded. "But you can't blame him. The School messed with him." He went quiet. "It messed with all of us."

I grasped his shoulder and pulled him over for a hug. He didn't really talk to me about the school a lot, and whenever he did, he seemed to shut down. I didn't really know how to help other than to remind him of the great home he had now. And that he had me.

He told me once, about how they operated on his eyes without any sedatives, anesthesia, anything. I couldn't imagine it, and fathoming his pain was too great to handle. It touched a deep, animalistic part inside me, the fear of pain. Humans are pleasure-seeking creatures; pain sends an extreme message of discomfort.

He patted my back after a moment. "Thanks, El." He was done mixing the dough.

I handed him a cookie sheet, and together we dropped the cookies onto the sheet.

We slid the sheets into the oven and sat back on the couch.

On TV, the kids were giving Charlie a hard time as their director. "He's a good director too," I observed. "It doesn't make sense the kids hate him."

"I think that's kind of the point, though. From listening to it a bazillion times." Iggy said.

I sighed. "Well, it's still one of the best Christmas movies. Poor Charlie Brown."

Soon enough, the timer dinged and the cookies were done. I swiped one, and then another.

"These are definitely better," I said, eating my second cookie

"Better than what?"

"Than my mom's cookies. But don't tell her I said that."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

**Thank you feather flyer, The Irish Lass Tobymydog, and NickRisch! Got it, I'll omit the mature scenes (and I went back and fixed the previous chapter). It doesn't really fit the plot, you guys are right. Oops! But, there will still be plenty of sweet, innocent fluff. So onward! I'm getting farther into the plot. Thanks everyone for the feedback. **


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